Amun Sunsaver's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Amun walked through the tall stone gates of the coliseum, spear in hand. The crowd already chanted his name. He had come alone to Netherhaven to be the first leonin champion, and the roar told him he was close. Above the entrance, fans had hung a banner of him snarling, mane wild, fangs bared. Amun stopped and stared up at it. The painted lion looked hungry. He did not feel hungry. He felt tired. In his pack, hidden beneath his cloak, he carried a soft white cloth folded small, brass pins gleaming. It was a keepsake from his cubhood, the only piece of home he had. He squeezed it through the leather. Each victory made the crowd louder, and each roar made the cloth feel heavier. A steward called his name for the next match. Amun lifted his spear and stepped onto the sand. He would fight. But tonight, win or lose, he promised himself he would decide when to stop — not them.